Donna Clara (from The German Of Heine) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCD EAFE FGBG HDIJ HGBB AGKK KLGG HBDM GMGM MMGB HBBM BMAG GKGF HNOG GMMB MGMH DAMM MHMM GDBP HFMA BBGG GGQM| In the evening through her garden | A |
| Wanders the Alcalde's daughter | B |
| Festal sounds of drum and trumpet | C |
| Ring out hither from the Castle | D |
| - | |
| I am weary of the dances | E |
| Honeyed words of adulation | A |
| From the knights who still compare me | F |
| To the sun with dainty phrases | E |
| - | |
| Yes of all things I am weary | F |
| Since I first beheld by moonlight | G |
| Him my cavalier whose zither | B |
| Nightly draws me to my casement | G |
| - | |
| As he stands so slim and daring | H |
| With his flaming eyes that sparkle | D |
| And with nobly pallid features | I |
| Truly he St George resembles | J |
| - | |
| Thus went Donna Clara dreaming | H |
| On the ground her eyes were fastened | G |
| When she raised them lo before her | B |
| Stood the handsome knightly stranger | B |
| - | |
| Pressing hands and whispering passion | A |
| These twain wander in the moonlight | G |
| Gently doth the breeze caress them | K |
| The enchanted roses greet them | K |
| - | |
| The enchanted roses greet them | K |
| And they glow like Love's own heralds | L |
| Tell me tell me my beloved | G |
| Wherefore all at once thou blushest | G |
| - | |
| Gnats were stinging me my darling | H |
| And I hate these gnats in summer | B |
| E'en as though they were a rabble | D |
| Of vile Jews with long hooked noses | M |
| - | |
| Heed not gnats nor Jews beloved | G |
| Spake the knight with fond endearments | M |
| From the almond trees dropped downward | G |
| Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms | M |
| - | |
| Myriad snowy flakes of blossoms | M |
| Shed around them fragrant odors | M |
| Tell me tell me my beloved | G |
| Looks thy heart on me with favor | B |
| - | |
| Yes I love thee O my darling | H |
| And I swear it by our Saviour | B |
| Whom the accursed Jews did murder | B |
| Long ago with wicked malice | M |
| - | |
| Heed thou neither Jews nor Saviour | B |
| Spake the knight with fond endearments | M |
| Far off waved as in a vision | A |
| Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight | G |
| - | |
| Gleaming lilies bathed in moonlight | G |
| Seemed to watch the stars above them | K |
| Tell me tell me my beloved | G |
| Didst thou not erewhile swear falsely | F |
| - | |
| Naught is false in me my darling | H |
| E'en as in my veins there floweth | N |
| Not a drop of blood that's Moorish | O |
| Neither of foul Jewish current | G |
| - | |
| Heed not Moors nor Jews beloved | G |
| Spake the knight with fond endearments | M |
| Then towards a grove of myrtles | M |
| Leads he the Alcalde's daughter | B |
| - | |
| And with Love's slight subtile meshes | M |
| He has trapped her and entangled | G |
| Brief their words but long their kisses | M |
| For their hearts are overflowing | H |
| - | |
| What a melting bridal carol | D |
| Sings the nightingale the pure one | A |
| How the fire flies in the grasses | M |
| Trip their sparkling torchlight dances | M |
| - | |
| In the grove the silence deepens | M |
| Naught is heard save furtive rustling | H |
| Of the swaying myrtle branches | M |
| And the breathing of the flowers | M |
| - | |
| But the sound of drum and trumpet | G |
| Burst forth sudden from the castle | D |
| Rudely they awaken Clara | B |
| Pillowed on her lover's bosom | P |
| - | |
| Hark they summon me my darling | H |
| But before we part oh tell me | F |
| Tell me what thy precious name is | M |
| Which so closely thou hast hidden | A |
| - | |
| Then the knight with gentle laughter | B |
| Kissed the fingers of his Donna | B |
| Kissed her lips and kissed her forehead | G |
| And at last these words he uttered | G |
| - | |
| I Senora your beloved | G |
| Am the son of the respected | G |
| Worthy erudite Grand Rabbi | Q |
| Israel of Saragossa | M |
Emma Lazarus
(2)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about Donna Clara (from The German Of Heine) poem by Emma Lazarus
Best Poems of Emma Lazarus